The Final Battle
by jimby
Summary: Oneshot. The Final Battle between Harry and Voldemort, as I imagined it. Non-canon


I do not own anything that can be recognised as a popular icon.

* * *

:parsletongue:

_AD 2014_

Sweat dripped down the faces of the two mortal enemies. One was the self-proclaimed ruler of the world, Lord Voldemort. The other was the-boy-who-lived, or as he wished it were the-boy-who–was-normal, Harry Potter. Around them was a wasteland of death and radiation, the ground drenched with blood of the countless wizards and muggles who had died to try and win the battle. All this was of little consequence to two fighters.

"Scared Potter?"

"You wish"

And with that, the fight was on. The air crackled with the first strikes of legilimancy, as probe after probe was sent at each other, each one slamming against an impervious occulmancy barrier.

Another pause.

Both fighters regarded each other, the hate between them making the air thicken, and become suffocating. Neither was willing to make the first move.

"So here we are, we two immortals, locked forever in combat, till judgement day?" called Voldemort, unknowingly quoting a muggle film. It was true as well. Both Voldemort and Harry were immortal, due to the prophesy which had dictated their lives. Only they could kill each other, and both had received countless killing curses to prove it.

"Or you could just surrender", quipped Harry.

With that, Voldemort broke the silence and cried "AVADA KEDAVRA". And with that, the fight was on. Hundreds of curses, charms, and jinxes were sent at one another, none of them hitting. The fighters twirled around each other, dancing the dance of death. To an outsider, it seemed choreographed.

Dancing and twirling, apparating, jumping and diving, each fighter gave it their best, as they shot out light and dark magic from their brother wands. The occasional burst of pure magic was sent out from their hands, given the intention of destruction. Harry had discovered what Voldemort had told him in his first year was true. There was no dark magic or light magic. There was only power, and both of them had it in spades.

Harry ducked and dived, each step bringing him closer and closer to Voldemort. It was time to land a hit. With one final step, he lashed out at Voldemort with his free hand, forcing magic into his bones and muscles to strengthen them. With that one punch, Voldemort's jaw was broken, and he flew back 20 or so metres. Voldemort twirled in the air, tapping his jaw with his wand as he landed like a cat healing it. The fight was back on, both equal to one another. Harry smiled grimly. The first hit had been to him. Voldemort hated not getting the first hit.

Once again, curses flew from their wands as the fight resumed. Harry knew what he had to do. Force a Prior Incantatum, and bring out 'the power he knows not'. As more and more curses flew through the air, creating the smell of ozone, Harry watched his opponent, and as Voldemort cried "AVADA KEDAVRA", the only spell both needed to vocalise, Harry shot out a disarming spell, aiming for the beam of green light rushing towards him. The red disarming spell impacted upon the green killing curse, and phoenix song filled the air as a great golden dome formed around them. Beads formed in the middle of the beam, and both Harry and Voldemort concentrated on sending the beads towards their opponents' wand. Harry started walking forwards, shortening the beam, every scrap of mental power he had focused on the beads. Slowly the beads started moving towards Voldemort's Yew wand, causing it to vibrate heavily. Every step Harry took, and every centimetre the beads gained, the more the yew wand shook. As Harry took one final step, he pushed one final time, forcing the beads into Voldemorts wand. The wand bloated with the impact of the beads, and shattered in Voldemorts hand, shredding the skin and muscles. Harry smiled, a smile of victory. Voldemort fell back, clutching his shredded hand, shouting out "NO!"

:Oh yes: Harry replied. :Today is judgement day, and I will be your judge, jury, and executioner:

Harry lifted his free had, a ball of different coloured swirls inside it. Red, green, yellow and blue, as well as black and white all mixed together. This was the power Voldemort knew naught of, the power of a multimagus. Harry had come into his inheritance on his 17th birthday, when wizards gain their inheritance, both fiscal and magical. He discovered that he could manipulate the powers of fire, earth, wind and water, as well as light and darkness. The bonus that came with the last two was that he could avoid the lure of dark magic when using it. Harry raised his hand high above his head, pushing more and more power into the ball of elements. The ball grew, and when it was the size of a basketball, he threw it with a grunt of pain, hate and desperation. The ball flew through the air, whistling with speed and energy, until it impacted Voldemort's torso. The ground shook as an explosion rent it apart. As the dust cleared, all that could be seen was a piece of burnt yew.

It was over.

* * *

This is my first story, so any reviews would be appreciated. Thanks!

* * *


End file.
